The Fallen Interlude
by Dark Draconain
Summary: Before he lived death, life killed him.
1. A Sequel to the End

**The Fallen Interlude**  
By: Dark Draconain  
Rated: PG - 13  
Feedback: Is a happy place  
Disclaimer: David, etc, are not mine, but everyone else is. Title courtesy of Blink-182.  
Summery: Before he lived death, life killed him.  
Author's Note: Story was written in the spring of 2004. AKA: it's old. Oh, and there are a whopping three chapters to this story. Yay.

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**The Fallen Interlude**

**Chapter One: _A Sequel to the End_**

David lay splayed out across the cold wooden counter, antlers piercing his chest and red lights gleaming on his pale face. Just beyond he could hear murmuring voices; of happiness, of fear, of life. He felt no pain; just cold. He was numb. His body in shambles. It was temporary of course, and had he the will or the resolve he could easily have overcome the dead bone protruding unceremoniously from his bloodstained shirt.

But David had neither of these things. He had nothing, and nothing had him. And so he lay there, splayed out across the cold wooden counter, antlers piercing his chest and red lights gleaming on his pale face, wishing for the end. No end would come though. Only emptiness. A vast and bleak void so thick with silence it was suffocating.

He resigned himself to this fate of obsolete animosity, slowly slipping deeper and deeper into oblivion until at last there was only nonexistence, and even lost loves couldn't hurt him anymore.


	2. The Length of Daylight

**The Fallen Interlude**  
By: Dark Draconain  
Rated: PG - 13  
Feedback: Is a happy place  
Disclaimer: David, etc, are not mine, but everyone else is. Title courtesy of Blink-182.  
Summery: Before he lived death, life killed him.  
Author's Note: Story was written in the spring of 2004. AKA: it's old. Oh, and there are a whopping three chapters to this story. Yay.

-

**The Fallen Interlude**

**Chapter Two: _The Length of Daylight_**

...Twelve Years Later...

The air was sweet, smelling of sea salts and ashes. As the bonfire died, a few glimmering embers danced off into the night and fluttered onto the black ocean water like fallen angels. The bodies, two lovers gazing at the stars with unseeing eyes, were left in grotesque poses, their dead flesh sucked almost dry of blood.

David stared at them, resentful of their happiness; of the life he'd stolen from them. The corpses brought back nothing but cutting memories, yet he was transfixed. He stayed there, standing over the mangled carcasses until the first shades of gray began to tint the horizon.

He hung his head low and pulled the lapels of his coat up to dispel the early morning light as he ambled back towards the derelict building he called home. It was about ten stories high, standing in glorious ruin over a cowering ally of decimated waste, a bitter testament to better times. David pushed through the rotting mass of fallen beams and faded furniture, up the tarnished stairs and into Room Nine on the seventh floor.

The hotel was his. Indeed, almost the entire city block was deserted. Rumor had it that it was haunted by the vengeful ghosts; victims in a series of shady homicides. A few skeptics came by now and then, and occasionally David would have to stake a firm claim to his territory, but for the most part nothing happened; just a continuance of time marked only by the rise and fall of the sun.

The murders, said to have been a particularly gruesome affair, were also to have been carried out primarily in Room Nine on the seventh floor of David's ruined hotel. And while the exact truth was convoluted beyond recognition, macabre occurrences had without a doubt taken place there: David could smell the stale bleach-ridden blood every time he walked in. Perhaps that was why he stayed there.

Lying on the sagging mattress, staring at the chipped ceiling paint that had long since been stained a mottled brown, David's thoughts strayed back to the dead lovers on the beach. Memories of a past life, buried under layers of callous, began to resurface in his mind, causing his body to shudder.

David had had several lives. This most recent a length of nothingness between what had happened then, and what could happen next. What had happened then was the death of persona, a loss of kin, and a bleeding heart left in shattered shards to wither alone. He'd been young and invincible, the brooding leader of a group of vampires. Everything was for the taking, and there was no call for sacrifice or choice. Then she had come along. A glimmer of beauty in a deceitful place, her graceful pallor radiating like her namesake: Star. David had wanted her, and so he had taken her. But she wouldn't accept her fate, choosing instead to remain a starving half-vampire rather than feed.

Michael was David's own fault: his blinding and undoing; her saving grace. Star had taken an interest in him, and so David had sought to destroy him, cursing him to live a life of darkness. He too resisted though, seeking to gain back his mortality, and in so doing he drew Star closer, and together they ended the vampire rein of the Lost Boys of Santa Carla. The two of them thought David was dead, impaled on the horn of some misbegotten animal scull. Dead bones could not kill him. It was the simple truth of emptiness that had been the cause for forfeit.

Forfeit, but not defeat. Not death. Just a wound that would never heal. Burned deep in sorrow, scarred in bitterness.

There were some hurts though that cut deeper; the price of immortality, the first death of the last life when breathing still had meaning.

_Her._

She came to mind sometimes. Like a snowflake fluttering against midnight, her ageless beauty undimmed by time. Star was nothing compared to her. No one was. Nothing was. But she was gone, and he was dead. Slayed at sixteen by her rejection.

That was over now. It was history. As it slowly slipped away, so did the sun. And as dusk grew deeper, all that remained was a lingering shadow of unrest, and a nagging urge to speak to the grave.


	3. Fade to Black

**The Fallen Interlude**  
By: Dark Draconain  
Rated: PG - 13  
Feedback: Is a happy place  
Disclaimer: David, etc, are not mine, but everyone else is. Title courtesy of Blink-182.  
Summery: Before he lived death, life killed him.  
Author's Note: Story was written in the spring of 2004. AKA: it's old. Oh, and there are a whopping three chapters to this story. Yay.

-

**The Fallen Interlude**

**Chapter Three: _Fade to Black_**

It was plain and nondescript; the same as the all the other hundreds of stone slabs, lined row upon row, dusted with the memory of a life long past. But the dead body that lay buried under the frozen ground at David's feet was anything but. It had once possessed a beauty so radiant it made the poetry of roses seem insignificant. She had been perfect, and her perfection had been a ghost of damnation. Her memory would be forever burned into David's mind, lashing his thought like a thousand blazing whips.

He looked around the cemetery, such as it was. Over the years it had decayed, faded into memory. The ominous wrought-iron gates were grown over with ivy, the ground caressed by the touch of a bitter winter that had never ceased. Withered flowers decorated the death that filled the air, adding their pain of rejection to the inharmonious choir of acrid elegies that drifted unheard through the cutting air.

David stood, taking in these sights without a conscious thought to their meaning. His mind was elsewhere, pouring over the vivid images of events that had occurred long ago.

The sun was shinning, shinning like there was no tomorrow. Even in memory, David trembled at its brightness. It was a beautiful day, and her lifeless body was being enclosed in a prison of dirt. It should have been raining. But it wasn't: it was sunny. David had hated the sun for that treachery. Now, though, he missed the light he had resented so much. He longed for its warm glow to touch his pale face. Longed for a reprieve from the eternal dusk.

But it was not to be.

David reached into his pocket and pulled out a white chrysanthemum.

_It was ten o'clock in the morning. The halls of the placid high school were bustling with students hurrying to get to class, but David was as still as if he was set in stone. There, a mere four lockers away was Carma. Carma Grisom. The most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. _

_"Are you ever going to ask her out?" inquired Dylan of his shy comrade. _

_David said nothing, just ran a hand through his messy blond hair and sighed. _

_"Jesus, man. You _are_ pathetic," Dylan shook his head, "let's go. Don't want to be late for Harker's physics class." Dylan walked away, but David didn't fallow. He walked in the other direction. _

_Her long, dark hair ran down her face, framing its flawlessness in breathtaking wonder. Her eyelashes swept over pristine eyes of deep purple. On her delicate brow was a small indent; just large enough so that she wouldn't be mistaken for an Elven Queen, but small enough to go unnoticed by most. _

_"Carma," said David dryly. His palms were sweating. _

_She smiled at him. It was a wondrous thing. "Hi," she said softly. _

_"Uh...so..." he stumbled over the words, helpless as his throat choked closed. _

_"Yes...?" she said impatiently. "Spit it out, I don't wanted to be late for class." _

_"N...never mind," he croaked. David walked away, and he didn't look back._

He let the chrysanthemum drop from his hand and watched it fall to earth like battle-weary seraph.

_Fresh spring air drifted lightly over the planes of long, green grass, lifting stray flower petals into the air and spinning them in a delicate whirlwind. David marched across the park. As he reached the small pond, a slight figure clad in white became visible, sitting quietly under a large tree. _

_"Hello," said David. _

_Carma looked up from the book she had been engaged in. "Hello, David." _

_He ran a hand through his tousled blond hair and sighed. "Uh..." he paused. "Carma, would like to go out some time " he forced the words out as quickly as he could without stumbling over them. _

_She stared blankly at him. "I...I don't...know..." she looked past his glasses and into his blue eyes, but David was sure all she could she a scrawny little geek. _

_"I understand," he said softly, turning on his heals and walking back towards a drab, grey life._

The chrysanthemum hit the frozen grave, collapsing on itself in forlorn misery and abandon.

_It was sunny. Why the hell was it sunny? What king of karmic joke was this? David's scowl deepened as he adjusted his tie and proceeded to curse the infernal weather. It should be raining, he thought bitterly. But it wasn't. It was sunny. _

_As the drone of sorrowful voices hushed, David, through a haze of hurt and anger, became aware of movement. They were lowering her lifeless body down into the dirt, eternally sixteen. _

_No one would say what exactly had happened, but most people suspected it was murder, and that that was why the police wouldn't release any details. _Bastards.

_David took one last look at the plain, wooden coffin slowly descending into a bed of cold, and turned away. There was nothing for him there now, so he walked away on his life, and he didn't look back._

And as David gazed at the white chrysanthemum, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

_fin_


End file.
